


A Series of Endless Fails Part III

by Fishyz9



Series: A Series of Endless Fails [3]
Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 15:13:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishyz9/pseuds/Fishyz9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three short stories. In Time: Will and Sonny attend a wedding, stirring bittersweet feelings between them. Date Night: Sonny lifts Will’s spirits. First Attempt: A flip shot of Will and Sonny’s first attempt at being intimate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Series of Endless Fails Part III

**Author's Note:**

> The song mentioned in ‘In Time’ is Sate of Our Affairs, by Mt. Desolation. I am fracking desperate for someone to make a fanvid using this song. Will someone please PLEASE make a video using this song? *Bats eyelashes*

** A Series of Endless Fails Part III **

In Time.

I don’t want anyone to know that I’m not okay, especially when I don’t even know _why_ I’m not okay, so I just focus on Will, who is presently wearing the hell out of that suit. He can pretty much wear the hell out of anything, but Will Horton dressed up to the nines? Yes please.

I have to say, this wedding sure beats the hell out of the last one Will and I attended. The last one being Gabi and Nick’s wedding just a few short years ago (their first one) which resulted in our brief but painful split. This wedding is between two genuinely good people (and mutual friends of mine and Will’s) whom love each other very much and who _aren’t_ blackmailing anyone, and it is tasteful and intimate and…and it’s just completely and utterly messing with my head for reasons I can’t understand.  

 I don’t cry at weddings. I’m not that guy; I don’t get emotional very often, (unlike my super-hot-suit-wearing boyfriend over there) so I don’t know why there’s a lump in my throat right now. It was touching to watch two of our friends exchange vows, I couldn’t be happier for them, but it also feels bittersweet.

The groom asked Will, literally last minute, to stand in for one of the groomsmen who has apparently been incapacitated by food poisoning, poor guy. And Will, being the good friend he always is, didn’t hesitate to walk down that isle, arm linked with a blushing bridesmaid who ―judging by the way she’s looking at my partner―will be sorely disappointed later on when it’s time to dance and I whisk him away from her.

He isn’t wearing a tux to match the rest of the groomsmen, but he cuts a fine figure in his slate-colored suit. His hair is cut, and it just makes me want to run my fingers through his blond hair. How anyone can look sophisticated and boyish at the same time is beyond me, but he does it. He is sheer elegance and charm. I love his masculinity that is never one bit diminished by the vulnerability he shows only to me. And though I never envisioned settling down so young, I love that I met Will so early on in life. Still in our early twenties and we already have a history behind us, and a long future ahead.

I should feel blessed, because I know how fortunate I am. Before Will, I pictured a life of globetrotting, of having a friend in every corner of the earth, a vast experience of lovers, and no intention of standing still until I was at least forty. But here I am, twenty five and settled down. I own my own business, I share a mortgage with my wonderful partner, and we even have the beginnings of our own family with Arianna. But it still somehow feels as if we’ve missed a step somewhere.

I watched Will walk down that isle, stand at that alter, pose for photographs with the rest of the wedding party…and it only now dawns on me what this feeling is. It’s the feeling of muted pain. It’s frustration and wistfulness.

Before Will, it had always just been an ever present political stance ―a matter of demanding what should also be mine, a matter of demanding equality. After Will?  Well, there’s a natural order to things, isn’t there? You meet the right person, you settle down, you have a family, and somewhere in the midst of all that, you marry this person who has so unrepentantly changed your life forever.

It was always insulting and enraging to have this denied to me as a gay man, but it’s only ever made me angry, it never actually _hurt_ me before. I guess I didn’t really understand what marriage meant or the weight and significance it carries. Will and I are as committed to one another as our friends who just exchanged vows, but we’re not recognized as the same.

It’s a piece of paper, but it’s also a way of binding yourself to the one person you declare to be yours forever. It has a worth I’d never really considered. And now? Now I feel embarrassingly close to tears, I feel foolish calling Will my _boyfriend_ when he is so much more than that.

We are not playing house. We are not dating. We are _done_ , but in the very best sense of the word. We’re not looking or searching anymore, we found each other and we’re already on route to the rest of our lives. But unlike everyone else, an intimate part of that journey is being denied to us, and it’s only now that I _have_ Will and that I recognized him for what he is― _everything_ ―that this ache has made itself obvious to me.

I hate it. And I can’t bear the thought of Will knowing that I’m pining away, that I’m sad or feel like there’s something missing in our relationship, because he would only be saddened by it. So when he walks across the lawn holding two champagne glasses, heading straight for me with a familiar, gentle smile, I plaster on one of my own.

“Hey, you” he says softly, kissing me hello and then handing me my glass. “Why are you all the way over here?”

We’ve seen the first dance, and now people are dancing and mingling and waiting for the free grub. I took myself off to the gardens, still in sight of the reception despite how the evening light bleeds away, but alone to walk under the trees that are strung with lights.

“I just wanted some fresh air.”

The look he gives me is a look that is one part suspicion and two parts fondness. “Sonny, the reception is in a tent. _Outside_.”

I give him what I hope is a casual smile and shrug as I take a sip of my drink. I gesture with my glass to the twinkling lights above our heads. “Isn’t this beautiful?”

But he doesn’t look up, he looks at me instead, and his small smile slowly melts away to be replaced with a look of concern. He reaches out his hand to gently run it along the length of my arm and he steps into my space, his voice gentle. “Hey, everything alright?”

I force a smile, nudge him playfully. “Of course.” But as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I notice the change of song drifting out of the reception canopy. My smile falters; it’s the song I think of as mine and Will’s. “I love this song.”

“State Of Our Affairs, right?”

“Yes. It’s romantic as hell.” I straighten his tie. “Makes me think of you.”

He watches me, smiling to himself, and then lets out a soft sigh. I ask him what he’s doing as he reaches for my glass, but he doesn’t answer. He sets our glasses down on the grass, against a tree, and then holds his hand out to me.

“Dance with me?”

Despite my odd mood I do manage a genuine smile at that, and place my hand in his. He pulls me close, his arm winding around my waist. He turns my hand in his so that the back of mine is against his chest in a straight up Jerry Lewis move. I raise an eyebrow at him as we begin a slow sway.

He looks at me smugly. “That’s right, I’ve got moves.”

I laugh, draping my arm around his shoulders. “I thought you hated dancing?”

“Usually.” He agrees, looking at my lips with a secretive little smile. He meets my eyes again. “But I like this. I like slow dancing with you, alone, in the dark.”

He doesn’t know it, but he always says the most perfect things. I lean close, sighing contently even as I feel a now familiar sting. “I like dancing with you too.” I practically whisper, afraid my voice might break.

His hand moves slowly from my waist and along my spine in a gentle caress. “Feels good,” he murmurs, his temple pressed to mine, and there’s that lump in my throat again.

I try for something lighthearted to hide the emotions swelling inside of me. “So, has she asked you out yet?”

He snorts, his arm around my waist pulling me flush against him. “I assume you mean the bridesmaid?”

“Yes, the one with the starry look in her eyes.”

“She asked me to dance.”

“And you said..?”

“I told her that I’d promised the first dance to my boyfriend, but maybe later.”

I laugh softly, and press a kiss to his cheek. He’s always such a gentleman. “And how’d she take that?”

“The same as most women who realize I’m not available: she threw herself to the ground in grief.”

I snicker quietly, my hand cupping the nape of his neck as I let him sway me the same way the branches above us sway in a gentle breeze. “You think a lot of yourself, don’t you, Horton?”

He smiles. I can’t see his face, but I can always just feel when he’s smiling. “Naturally. Just look at my date, he’s a catch.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“I’ll just call you Casanova from now on, then.”

“I prefer Will.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Would a spoilsport have a surprise for you later tonight?”

I pull my head back a fraction and look at him. He’s looking mighty pleased with himself, so it must be good. “Oh really?”

“This big fancy hotel? We’re spending the night.” He grins.

I feel a surprised smile blossom across my face. “We are?”

He nods. “Yes,” he says, and then presses a soft, but lingering kiss to my lips. He brushes his nose against mine. “Your mom said she’d be happy to look after Ari a little longer until we get home tomorrow.”

I feel a goofy laugh bubble up inside of me. It’s ridiculous how he can still surprise me and even make me bashful after all this time. “When did you do this?”

“When we got here and your eyes got all big and you wouldn’t shut up about how cool the hotel was.”  He laughs. “I booked us a room with a huge tub.” His grin is adorably mischievous. “I’m going to get you stinking drunk and take advantage of you.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “You sneak.”

“I’m a sneak that’s getting laid.”

“Damn right you are.”

The song changes, and Will looks over his shoulder, back at the tent to where the rest of the guests mingle. “We should probably get back over there.”

I don’t know why but I clutch him suddenly closer, unwilling to share him with other people just yet. “Just a few more minutes?”

He looks at me, once again suspicious and a touch concerned, but his expression softens and he pulls me into his arms, swaying me gently. “Anything you want.”

Anything I want. Accept he can’t give me what I want, he’s not allowed to. I gently pull my hand free from his and wrap my arms around his neck, willing myself to calm down and to not worry him. His arms hug me close, and he murmurs into my ear.

“Alright, tell me.”

Dammit.

“Come on,” he coaxes me, all gentleness and patience as he pulls his head back a fraction to make me look at him.

I loosen my hold on him, but I keep my arms draped around his shoulders. We stop swaying, and he watches me, waiting. “I’m being stupid.” I whisper, and to my horror my voice cracks.

“Now I doubt that.”

“It’s just…” I falter, swallow hard. “I don’t know. Seeing our friends so happy…seeing you being a part of the ceremony…I don’t…” I trail off, too embarrassed to continue.

Understanding dawns, and his expression morphs into something infinitely tender as his hand cups my cheek. “Ah, there we go” he whispers.

I close my eyes. “Ignore me.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll never ignore you.”

“I’m being stupid.”

“You’re being human.” His thumb brushes over my cheek. “You don’t think I felt a little sad today?”

I look at him, but don’t say anything.

“Sure, I’m happy for our friends, but I’m envious, too.”

“You are?” I whisper.

“Sure I am,” he laughs softly. “You know that I never put much stock in the whole marriage thing. There are people who love each other who aren’t allowed to be married, and then there are people who are allowed, but who just seem to constantly screw it up.” He explains. “It all seems so inconsistent, but then you meet the right person, you begin to build a life with him…” He bites his lip, and I see his throat work.

“What?” I ask.

“I’d marry you in a heartbeat, if I could.” He murmurs with a hint of sadness.

I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding, and close my eyes. I feel his knuckles against my cheek.

“But we’re not settling for a contract, Sonny. I’m marrying you in our hometown. When it’s legal. When I can call you _husband_.”

Tears spring into my eyes, but I fight them back. I nod my head. “That’s what I want. I want exactly that.”

“And we’ll have it. In time. Whether it’s in a few years, or fifty, it’ll happen for us.” He presses a kiss to my lips, chaste but true. “I swear it. I am going to marry you one day, Sonny Kiriakis.”

I let out a choked laugh, and he pulls me close, holding me, swaying me gently. “Can you wait? Is it enough for now?”

I pull back, cup his face and kiss him fiercely. We’re breathless when I pull back, and I rest my brow against his. “It’s enough.”

He takes my hand in his and gives me a gentle tug. “Come on, let’s enjoy the party.”

I smile at him, and pause only for a second to pick up our champagne glasses. We head back to the reception to congratulate our friends, his hand entwined forever in mine. 

 

 

Date Night.

I shoulder against the door without thinking, expecting it to open, and then frown when it doesn’t budge. It’s past closing hour, but he usually leaves the door open for me. For a moment, I flash back to another time when this door was locked, and for one irrational, horrible second, I’m afraid to look through blinds of my boyfriend’s coffee shop.

I tell myself not to be stupid, and squint through the slats. I’m both relieved to see only Sonny inside, and annoyed at myself for even allowing Brian to pop into my head. I knock against the glass to get Sonny’s attention, and wait for him to open the door.

“Hey,” he greets me, and I can tell from the wattage of his smile that he’s up to something.

“Hey,” I say suspiciously, trying to look around him. “What’s going on in there?”

He blocks my view. “I have a little something planned for our date tonight.”

“I thought we were just going to hang out here and study?”

“We are―hanging out here, that is. But not to study.”

His excitement over this surprise is obvious. Obvious and incredibly endearing. I laugh at him a little. “Okay, so can I come in?”

“You have to pay the toll.”

“Are you kidding me right now? Are you actually being this cute?”

“It’s going to cost you a kiss to come in here.”

I tug him forwards by the shirt. “No other guys better be paying this toll.”

“Meh, just the cute ones.”

“ _Sonny_ ,” I growl at him, and then give him his damn kiss. “Now can I come in?”

“Okay,” he says, almost bouncing as he moves out of the way.

I walk by him, my hand dragging across his stomach, and then pause. He’s turned all the lights off save for the one behind the counter, and he’s cleared the center of the room so that there’s only one table. On said table is quite clearly a romantic setup that comprises of two flickering candles, a bottle of wine beside two empty wine glasses and two plates, one empty, and the other with a rose lying across it.

I feel something in my chest twist at the effort he’s gone to. “What is all this?” I ask softly.

His arms slink around my waist, and his chin rests on my shoulder. “This is date night.”

“But you’ve like…you’ve gone to so much effort and stuff…I didn’t bring you anything.”

He laughs, and then kisses my cheek. “You weren’t supposed to bring anything. I told you, it’s a surprise, meager as it may be.”

“ _Meager_?” I repeat. “Are you joking? This is the most…” I sigh, unable to articulate how touched I suddenly feel. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”  I shake my head, and I know there’s a goofy smile on my face as I turn to look at him, but I can’t help it. “Why’d you do this?”

He wraps his arms around my waist loosely. “Well, I know that just recently your life has been nothing but an abundance of stress. Quite frankly, if things get much worse I’m going to start fretting about your blood pressure.”

I laugh and press my forehead to his shoulder. His hand cups the back of my neck, and when I lift my head, those brown eyes―the very first thing I noticed about him, the very first thing that attracted me―are looking at me with nothing but warmth.

“This is my little attempt at reminding you of the good things you have in your life.”

“Like you?”

“Like how loved and wonderful you are. So wonderful that I closed early to set this up and even pilfered a bottle of wine from my uncle’s wine cellar.”

I laugh at that, and I swallow hard when the backs of his fingers brush against my cheek. “You’re going through such a rough time, I just want to see you smile for a little bit.”

“Mission accomplished” I say shakily. I look back at the table. It’s such a simple thing, but it’s perfect, too. “You are so amazing.”

“ _Pfft_ , I wouldn’t g that far.”

“No, I mean it.” I say seriously, looking at him and nodding my head. “We were back together for a minute before my drama took over. Anyone else would have walked away by now, but you…you just…you just have my back, every step of the way, don’t you?” I wet my lip. “I love you so much.”

I see heat rise in his cheeks, and realize that I’ve made the moment a lot more serious than it needed to be. I clear my throat, and nod over at the table. “I should be doing this for _you_ , Mister boyfriend extraordinaire.”

He smiles at me, and I know he sees through my attempt at humor. His hands on my waist guide me to the side of the table with the rose laying across the plate. I pull back the chair, and pick up the rose. I look at him, eyebrow raised. He shrugs, as if it’s nothing, but the flush continues to creep up his neck.

“I thought I’d go for broke.”

I place the rose next to my plate, and shake my head as I take my seat. “You are getting so lucky tonight, it’s not even funny.”

“Ah, well, you say that now, but you haven’t seen the food…” he says as he walks behind the coffee counter. “See, I may be a romantic at heart, but I’m sure as hell not a chef.”

I laugh as he walks back over to our little table, carrying a _Dominos_ pizza box. He flips it open, and lays two slices across my plate. “But it is your favorite: pepperoni with extra everything.”

I’m grinning like an idiot, and I catch his arm before he walks away, giving it a little tug and lifting my chin to kiss him. “Thank you,” I murmur.

“For pizza?”

“For wanting to make me smile.”

He winks at me, lays a slice on his own plate, and then sets the box on the counter. “And now for the piece de résistance…” He pulls his iPod out of his pocket and slides it into the dock he keeps behind the counter. Seconds later, something acoustic and romantic filters through the room.

I look at him as he sits down opposite me, the small, flickering candles casting shadows over his gorgeous skin. He is so beautiful to me.

“Wine?”

I shrug, grinning. “Go for it, Romeo.”

He lifts the bottle, and then pauses. “Oh crap, I didn’t…I didn’t bring a corkscrew…”

I snort and then rest my forehead in my palm. “Sonny…you are too much.”

“I can probably just…just hang on a sec…”

I watch him struggle, attempting to twist it free. I hide my smile behind my hand when he retrieves a dishcloth, hoping that might help. Eventually he gives up, sets the bottle down on the table, and looks at me, biting his lip. 

“Coffee?”

I laugh out loud, and then nod my head. His self-deprecating smile is obscenely attractive. “Coffee and pizza” I chuckle.

“And a rose and candles.” He points out.

“You get an A+ for effort, handsome.”

He slumps in his seat, laughing at himself. He looks at me pitifully. “Am I still getting lucky tonight?”

I reach across the table, taking his hand in both of mine, and press a kiss against his knuckles. “Sonny, you’ll be lucky if you can walk tomorrow.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. He pulls his hand away and gestures to my plate impatiently. “Eat up. Like… _now_.”

I bark out a laugh, lean back in my seat, and take a bite of my pizza. I watch him, and we share an intimate look, our silence comfortable and laden with desire for our evening ahead.

I love date night.

 

 

First Attempt.

Even if his cheeks hadn’t flushed a lovable shade of pink, the way he bit his lip and jerkily bounced his knee gave him away to me. And it was the flimsiest of excuses, too…

_“I uh…I have some cool movies downloaded on my computer, do you…do you want to come over and watch?” He asks as his car idles by the sidewalk. We were meant to go see the new Hobbit film, but apparently it’s not out yet and there’s nothing else either of us feel like paying to see._

_“You mean at Sami’s or…?”_

_“No, no at my dorm.”_

I forced myself to not smile and remain casual; to do anything else would embarrass the hell out of him. Things have been getting pretty heated between us just lately, but I’ve been playing it so carefully with Will, unwilling to scare him off or worse, push him into anything he isn’t ready for. So I’ve been waiting for the right moment, and the right excuse to invite Will over to my apartment in a way that wouldn’t suggest that I was expecting anything from him.

Well it seems like maybe we were on the same wavelength the whole time, and I am so glad, because although I like to think of myself as a gentleman, I only have so much restraint when it comes to Will Horton. This guy is the very definition of hot. He’s toned, blond, blue eyed; add to that an endearing naiveté, a goofy sense of humor and just this sweet as hell innate kindness, and there’s no resisting him.

When we’re together it’s always in public, so our kisses, though always amazing, are also quite tame. In fact the only time I’ve really been able to get my hands on him was when he unexpectedly followed me into the stock room at Common Grounds one time. I turned around and there he was, standing there with a roguish grin as he closed the door behind him. I barely got two words out before he gently pushed me back against the shelves and gripped the front of my shirt in both fists and kissed the bejesus out of me.

It was naught to sixty, his hands palming greedily at my chest as if he’d been fantasizing about it for the longest time just turned me flat on. And after watching him for so long, I finally let my hands stray from those sexy, slim hips to feel his incredible ass. He fit so perfectly into my palms, I can’t even explain it. And the way he groaned into my mouth and slid his arms around my neck had me rock-hard in a second.

Eventually he broke our heated kiss, his breath hot against my lips as his hands trailed down my chest to cup me through my pants. My breath caught, and I could so clearly see the bubbling excitement in his eyes _._

_“Will, we―” I began._

_“Sonny? What the hell is taking so―_ oh! _Shit! Sorry man, uh…” Chad immediately turned his back, already laughing even a Will snatched his hand away from my happy place. “I didn’t…I’m just gonna go.”_

Will still can’t quite look Chad in the eye, though it probably doesn’t help that Chad teases him every chance he gets. Idiot.

So I try to remain relaxed and cool as will juggles his keys nervously, looking for the right one to unlock hid dorm room. But I think we both know why we’re really there, and it has nothing to do with movies. He opens the door and holds it open for me, when I walk in I’m almost surprised at how neat everything is.

“Wow, aren’t dorm rooms supposed to look like…I don’t know, dumps?”

He shrugs, but I can tell he’s playing it cool. “I’m not like most students, I guess.”

“Will, I’ve seen the state of your car. You are _exactly_ like most students” I laugh.

“Well, I just happened to clean up the other day, so…”

Something clicks. Will suggested the Hobbit, not me. He probably knew it wasn’t out yet, and he definitely knew there wasn’t anything else showing that I wanted to see. My adorable boyfriend has set this up. He’s standing there, biting his lip, fiddling with his keys, and looks like a nervous puppy now that he finally has me where he wants me.

“Um, so…so just make yourself at home” he says as he shoulders off his coat and sets his keys down on his desk.

I smother a smile and shoulder off my coat.

“Oh, here…” he takes my coat. “Let me get that.”

I sit on the edge of the bed (because there isn’t anywhere else to sit) and watch as he moves around the room nervously. I am so turned on by his nervousness that I don’t really know what to think of myself.

He turns back to look at me when he has nothing else to do and twists his hands together for a second. “You uh, you want anything to eat or drink?”

“No, I’m good.” I say softly.

“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than me, and then turns to his desk to pick up his laptop. He brings it over to his night stand, and perches it on the edge of the bed with his back to me while he opens it up. “So um, I have a ton of movies downloaded on here…”

I move to sit closer to him, and lay my hand on his back. “Will, leave it for a second.”

He turns to look at me, his eyes so big and freakin’ innocent it kills me. “Okay,” he whispers.

I edge closer to him so that our thighs brush side by side, and I lift my chin slightly. “Come here.”

He licks his lips quickly, and leans in to kiss me. I can practically taste how nervous he is, and it’s the sweetest kiss I’ve ever know, I swear to God. I turn slightly, and slide my hand around his waist. His hands reach up to cup my face and without thinking about it, I just ease him onto his back.

It’s amazing how moving from vertical to horizontal can change things, because Will’s kiss suddenly becomes eager―almost desperate as I lay myself half over him. His breath stutters against my lips and his hands drag cross my back. I don’t even realize that he’s unbuttoning my shirt until I feel  cool air against my chest, but it only lasts for a second because he’s touching me, and even breaks our kiss to watch as his hands stroke across my chest.

It dawns on me how big of a deal this is for him―for me too, because it’s Will, but this is the first time, after struggling with his sexuality for years, that he’s had the opportunity to touch another man like this. I don’t think I’ve ever been made to feel so attractive, so _sexy_ in all my life, and I gladly let him have his fill.

“Wow,” he breathes, and I can’t help but laugh softly. He looks at me and then smiles a little in embarrassment, but he doesn’t move his hands. “Look at you” he whispers.

“I’d rather look at _you_.” My hand moves from his waist, sliding under his sweater and up, encouraging him to take it off.

He takes the hint and pulls the sweater up, over his head. I take the opportunity to slide my shirt off and throw it over the side of the bed. Now, I’ve held him plenty of times, so I know he carried some muscle, and I’ve even seen him topless before at the beach when we were just friends, but in this context, and this close? I feel as if my heart may beat right out of my chest.

He lays his hand over my chest again, his palm flat over my nipple, and wets his lips as he edges closer to me and then eases me back. When he lays over me, our skin touching for the first time, he closes his eyes and shudders.

“Skin to skin” he whispers.

“I know.”

His hand moves smoothly to the nape of my neck, and he draws me into a long, deep kiss. Without even meaning to my hands make their way down his back to rest on his ass. I feel him smile against my lips, and I have to ask…

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he bites his lip, nuzzling close. “Is…is this okay?”

His hand slides down my stomach, pauses for a second, and then his palm is burning hot against my erection. I nod my head―because I can’t actually _speak_ ―and his palm cups me a little firmer, and gently rubs me through my jeans.

I groan, kissing him as my hands dip beneath the waistband of his jeans to slide over the smooth curve of his ass. I only just manage to stop myself from sliding my hand beneath the fabric  of his boxers, but judging by the noises he’s making and by the way he’s moving against me, I don’t think he’d mind.

“Sonny?’” He manages between kisses.

“Hmm?” I grunt into his mouth, incapable of speech for the moment.

“I…uh,” he pulls back a fraction; still close, but unwilling to look me in the eye. “I-I have… _stuff_ , if…if you want to, um…”

Desire hits me square in gut when I understand what it is he’s so coyly trying to tell me. I gently cup his cheek. “You have condoms?”

He lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head. “Do um,” he wets his lips and heat slams into his cheeks. “Do you want to?” He whispers. “With me?”

I’m torn between feelings of tenderness, and outright lust. I rub my thumb over his heated cheek. “Oh my God, _yes_ , Will. You’ve no idea.”

His smile takes my breath away. It’s beautiful, but baffling too. As if anyone could ever not want him, he’s perfect. He practically throws himself into my arms, his hands suddenly all over me, and I can’t help but laugh into our kiss.

“What?” He smiles, waiting to be let in on the joke.

“Nothing,” I say. “I’m just really… _happy_ , I guess.”

He watches me, and then worries his lip as he plays with my belt buckle.

“What?” I ask, wondering if he’s already changed his mind. “Something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “No, just…”

He looks at me, and I can’t quite read the look he’s giving me. It’s almost…apologetic?

“You should just know that I don’t…I don’t really _know_ what I’m doing when it comes to this ―to sex. With…with another guy.” He lifts his shoulder, practically wincing, and his flush spreads down toward his chest.

“Will,” I say softly, and then kiss him because I can’t _not_ kiss him right then. “I know, you don’t have to worry about that, I promise.”

He watches me, and I can see the relief fill his eyes. His smile is beaming. “Okay,” he whispers, and reaches to kiss me.

The banging at the door makes us both jump out of our skin.

“Horton? You in?”

We both look at the door, practically stunned to be snapped out of our intimate moment so abruptly.

“Horton? Open up!”

Will curses and scoots to the edge of the bed, reaching for his sweater. He struggles to turn the sleeves from inside out, and looks between me and the door. “I’m sorry, that’s Corey, from across the hall, let me just get rid of him.”

I nod, but quickly pull my shirt back on. Will mentioned that he hasn’t had any problems at school with homophobia, but I don’t want to take any chances.

“Come on, Horton.” Calls another voice, much to my dismay. “Corey said he saw you go in there earlier. Open up!”

Will whips open the door just as I scoot to end of the bed, sitting there casually. Two guys barrel past him, snacks under their arms. One lifts his head to me in a brief greeting, throwing a bag of Doritos into my lap and then sitting down next to me, while the other strides past Will, plucking up his TV remote and pointing it at his TV.

“The game’s on.” The guy standing there says in way of explanation, not even looking at Will as he flicks through the channels.

Will stands there, mouth hanging open comically. “Wh ―then watch it in your own room!”

The guy sitting next to me speaks through a mouthful of Doritos. “Can’t, his TV is broken. And I don’t have one.”

Will looks at me helplessly, and I can almost see the fumes coming off of him. “Well, go somewhere else, I have company!”

The guy standing in front of the TV frowns at Will, and then looks at me. A shit-eating grin slowly spreads across his lips. “Hold up,” he says, pointing at me with the remote. “Is that him?”

Will closes his eyes in obvious mortification, and goes to close the door. “Oh my God” he mutters.

The guy sitting next to me nudges me, and I look at him, already amused.

“Are you Sonny?”

I look at Will. “Uh, yeah?”

The guy with the remote punches Will in the shoulder. “Holy shit, Horton, was you getting some?”

Will covers his face with both hands and groans, and I can’t help it, I burst out laughing. The guy next to me wipes his hand on his jeans, and then offers it to me. “’Sup, I’m Taylor.” He nods over to the guy presently trying to get Will into what looks like a playful headlock. “That dick over there is Corey. Sorry about the cock-block, but it’s a big game.”

 I can’t do anything but shrug and shake his hand. I look to the other side of me when the mattress dips violently, and see that Corey is sitting flush against me, grinning ear to ear.

“So,” he says, “you’re Sonny?”

I glance back at Will who is straightening his sweater and hair, and then back at Corey. “Yep, that’s me.”

“Dude, you’ve no idea how bad Horton has it for you, it’s pathetic.”

“Wha―shut the fuck up!” Will says, horrified.

“No seriously, I know more about you then I do my own girlfriend.” He starts to tick his fingers. “You’re a business major, you’ve travelled the world, climbed mountains, you own your own coffee shop…”

I cut a glance at Will, and he looks like he wants to be swallowed by a hole in the ground. I had no idea that Will talked about me. I know right then that it’s a done deal, I’m already in love with him.

“Corey, _please_ shut up.”

“I’ll shut up if you let us watch the game here.”

Taylor lifts his bag Doritos. “We’ll share our snacks.”

Will looks at me, and I smile, shrugging. I think it’s obvious that the moment is over. Will rolls his eyes, and then drags Corey up by the arm, taking his seat next to me.

“Fine,” he growls. “But you two are on the floor. We have the bed.”

Taylor slides to the floor without a fuss, obviously happy enough with his snacks, but Corey begins to make cheesy porn music. Will glares at him.

“Do you want to watch the game or not?” Will asks firmly, and it’s a shame that we’re not alone, because his assertive tone is kind of hot.

Corey relents, and sits beside Taylor. He wastes no time in trying to wrestle the Doritos from him. Will looks at me, utterly apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

I shake my head, and kiss his cheek. “Tomorrow night,” I whisper back, so only he can hear me. “My place.”

Will flushes, and then looks away with a pleased grin. He lets out a deep sigh and leans forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. I lean back on my hands, crossing my ankles, and feel oddly content considering our disruption.

“So,” Will says, “who’s playing?”

 

 


End file.
